Forever Yours
by SilentWriter987
Summary: "Your love has me trapped. I cannot move, I cannot breathe. I dont wan't to let go. Please don't ever set me free. You are my master, I am your slave. I am yours forever. Until the day I die." - Anonymous Sansa/Joffrey
1. Chapter 1

_Joffrey/Sansa. I own nothing, just the plot. English isn't my first language, so excuse the grammatical errors, and lack of vocabulary._

_Warning, there will be lemons in the following chapters. Minor and major._

* * *

Sansa Stark followed the Hound quietly into the hall. It had been a week since her father's decapitation, and the king and his mother had finally decided what to do with her.

Keep her prisoner in the castle.

From there they would decide whether to behead her or go on with the wedding.

Sansa clenched her fists, grey eyes blazing. Just the thought of marrying the person who mercilessly killed her father made her want to vomit. She could never spend the rest of her life with someone who killer so ruthlessly, who was a coward, someone who thought lowly of women, who thought lowly of everyone.

She blinked back tears, and ran ahead of the Hound. She could see her "room" at the end of the hall. She pushed the wooden door open, and threw herself onto the bed.

She grabbed a flat pillow and buried her face in it, finally letting the tears fall from her eyes. The Hound came in and looked around the room.

It wasn't such a bad room. In fact, Sansa was the only prisoner to have a bed and window, a room. The other prisoners were locked in dungeons, steel bars and a mound of hay for a bed.

Sansa's room was pretty decent, it looked like a peasant's home. She was lucky the king decided to keep her in here, not in a dungeon like the others. She was real lucky. '_This is the nicest thing the king would ever do for her.. This is as nice as he could get...'_

There was a table and chair in the corner of the room, a single window and a bed. The Hound then looked at the girl, who was sobbing.

Poor thing.

He felt bad for her. She did not deserve to see her father's head impaled on a stick. It was bad enough the king killed the poor old man, after promising not to. Sansa should have not believed the king when he said he would spare her father, though. Joffrey never kept a promise.

The Hound shook his head._ 'Well, the king is a vicious, cruel little bastard. And there's nothing anyone can do to change him or his ways as long as he's still king... What the king wants, he gets...'_

And he had wanted Eddard dead, so that's what he got. He wanted to see Sansa suffer, because she didn't enjoy the pain and suffering and misery of other like he did. Joffrey thought the young woman was weak, boring and stupid because she wasn't a sadist like him. The Hound thought otherwise, he thought the girl was smart and tough, but of course he never voiced his thoughts.

_'Things will only get worse from here...' _

The girl needed to be strong in order to survive in this place. He looked at the shaking girl one more time and left, closing the door firmly behind him.

* * *

Sansa lay in the darkness, wondering what would happen to her next. Would she be executed? Would she be imprisoned here for life?

Or worse, would she still be wed to Joffrey?

She really hoped not, she'd much rather die than spend the rest of her pitiful life with the heartless, sadistic king.

She sniffed and wiped away the last of her tears. Gods, her eyes hurt. They were red, puffy and small with all the sobbing she's been doing in the past hours.

Well, she was out of tears. For now...

Crying wouldn't bring back her father, wouldn't stop the king's deadly pursuit of her brother and maybe her sister. She regretted everything she's done This was all her fault. If she hadn't accepted the former king Baratheon's proposal.

If only she had listened to her parents. She _regretted everything_. From accepting the proposal of the former king to doubting her sister about the present king.

She should have listened to her parents when they said the former prince was not as sweet and kind as he seemed to be and that she shouldn't accept the marriage proposal. But she didn't listen. She defied her parents and went ahead and stayed with the king. And now everything was terrible.

Just terrible for her and her loved ones. All she could do now was wait. Wait for the king and his evil mother to decide her fate.

And if they did decide to spare her life, she would play along with the king's wants, pretend she still loved him while also planning her escape, and then her revenge.

She sighed, closing here eyes and drifting away into the darkness once again.

* * *

"**_Wake up! Wake up!_**"

Sansa groaned as she was violently shook by a pair of rough hands. Her eyes snapped open. She stared up into a pair of dark brown eyes. She immediately sat up and backed away from him in fear. The guard stood up straight and cleared his throat. "His majesty requests for your presence at the dining hall for breakfast."

Sansa frowned. _'It's not a request, it's an order...'_ She quickly replaced her frown with a smile. "Of course..."

"And quickly... I'll send for someone to make your bath.." He headed for the door. "Wait..."

The Hound turned around, an eyebrow raised. "What's your name again?" The Hound grinned, showing off decayed _teeth. _"Sandor Clegane..." He walked out. Sansa sighed and stood up. _'At least someone here is a bit nice to me...'_

* * *

"Excuse me, Lady Stark..."

Sansa opened the door. An old lady smiled warmly at her and came in. "Your bath is ready, Lady Stark." The old lady guided her to the washroom.

A few moments later she was dressed for breakfast. A royal blue, floor length dress that exposed a little bit of her chest, shoes in a soft gray, and the necklace Joffrey had given her. The old lady admired her. "I am Anya, your personal servant." She said, smiling. Sansa stiffened. _'So he chose a servant with a name similar to my sister's...'_

She clenched her teeth. _'The king's cruelty know no bounds...'_

"Alright..." She said after a while.

"His majesty wants me to attend to you and your wants and needs from now on, milady." Sansa needed. So he's finally decided on letting me live...The old woman ushered her out into the hall. "We must be quick." You don't want to be late."

* * *

Sansa's heart began to race as she and Anya neared the dining room. The old lady glanced at her, a worried look on her face. "Is something the matter, milady?" Sansa shook her head. Anya put a gentle hand to the young woman's white face. "You're pale... And shaking..." She observed, frowning. Sansa shook her head, forcing a smile to her lips.

"I'm fine..."

The old lady sighed. SHe knew the girl was bluffing, but didn't pry. It was obvious the girl feared the king, and didn't want to join him for breakfast.

Who _didn't_ fear the king?

She felt awful for the girl, betrothed to such a cruel young man, who she also heard treated her like dirt. She sighed again, shaking her head. "Then it's best you go in now, you don't want to keep his majesty waiting." She said softly. Anya pushed the wooden door open, and they both went inside.

Anya immediately curtsied, while Sansa stood, frozen, as she stared at the king. He sat at the end of the table, staring directly at her, a cruel smirk on his face.

_'Don't be afraid, Sansa... Be Brave... Be strong...'_

But after what he did to her father, and his threats to her family, she couldn't help but fear him, she couldn't defy him in any way. _'Maybe...'_

Gods, she wished she had Arya's bravery and confidence right now. Joffrey continued to smirk at her, enjoying her torment.

Anya stood up straight. "Excuse me, your grace, I need to prepare Lady Sansa's bath for this afternoon..." Sansa silently begged her to stay, but the old woman shook her head. There was nothing she could do. The king wanted to be alone with his lady when they ate breakfast. And she had no choice but to follow his orders and leave the poor girl with him.

Joffrey nodded his consent.

Anya went out, quietly closing the door behind her. Sansa's heart began to race again. They were alone. No guards to accompany them, no servants present. Just the two of them. In a _dimly lit_ room. He smirked at her.

"Sit down, my lady..." She took a seat farthest from his. "Closer..." He said harshly, a frown replacing his smirk. She took a seat closest to his. His dark smirk reappeared. "Eat, my lady..." He gestured to the several plates of food on the table.

Sansa stared, suddenly hungry. Her mouth began to water. She hasn't eaten since yesterday. There were plenty of dishes to choose from, but she wouldn't pick any of them. She cleared her throat and said stiffly "I'm not hungry, my lord. But thank you for the offer." He frowned.

"You _will_ eat," He snarled, clenching a fist and slamming it down on the table. Sansa sat back in her chair in fear, waiting for him to strike. Instead he glared at her. "I won't have my future queen starving herself," He continued, eyes blazing in rage. "I won't have a queen that's _frail_ and _weak_... Who looks like a_ bag of fucking bones_... You should be grateful that I don't have you punished for your act of defiance against the _king_." He spat.

Sansa's heart skipped a beat. Her worst fears were confirmed. Instead of apologizing for defying him, she stuttered "W-what?"

Joffrey stood up. "I have decided to spare your _pitiful_ life, and go on with our planned wedding."

Gods, she was going to marry him after all. How tragic...

Sansa felt her chest tighten and tears sprung to her eyes. She was hoping that he would have her executed, she was sure that he had wanted to have her executed. But no, she was to _marry_ him. She was horrified. The thought of spending the rest of her life with him was appalling,_ horrifying_. She would live in fear of him, _forever_.

There would be no love, no friendship, no_ peace_ in the relationship. She would live the rest of her life with the monster who killed her father, who would probably keep her prisoner in the castle. She would spend the rest of her life with someone who treated her like dirt, and would treat her life dirt forever. She would be with someone who would never, _could never_ love her.

Joffrey stared at her amused and annoyed by her expression and sudden silence. Then he smirked darkly. "Something the matter, my lady?"

She shook her head, trying to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall. But they fell anyway. She wiped them away. "I thought you wanted to have me e-executed."

He laughed coldly. "Change of plans. Of course, mother didn't agree at first. Then she did. After all, you have been loyal, and I cannot risk marrying someone who isn't loyal and obedient. And we've disregarded the fact that you're father was a traitor." He smiled cruelly. "It isn't the daughter's fault that her father was a traitor."

"You'd make a faithful, loyal, obedient wife. Now... Eat... I'll see you in the afternoon, my lady..."

Sansa watched him leave the room with a heavy heart, tears in her eyes, her fragile body shaking.

* * *

_Excuse me if I got some of the facts wrong about Game of Thrones... Haven't really finished all the episodes. I'm sorry about the grammar and lack of vocabulary, for is English isn't my first language. Sorry if Joffrey doesn't seem cruel enough, hard to keep the boy in character. For me, at least. And sorry if Sansa seems cowardly. She will be stronger in the next chapters. The story will live up to the summary. And lastly, thanks for reading._


	2. Chapter 2

"Wake up, milady Time to get dressed for breakfast." Sansa sat up, yawning and stretched her arms. She had a good night's rest since Joffrey had her moved to a new room, "a more suitable room for my lady." Anya smiled and helped Sansa out of her bed. "Your bath is ready, milady." The young woman smiled gratefully at her helper and rushed to the wash room to take her bath.

"Good morning, your grace."

Sansa curtsied low before the king, her heart beating fast, and her palms sweating. After a few moments, she stood up straight and went to take her place beside the him.

"Mother isn't joining us for breakfast. But she'd like to speak with you later..." Sansa nodded. He turned to look at her.

"Such a lovely dress you've picked for today, my lady." He smirked, eyes glinting with lust. Sansa blushed , looking down at her lap. "Thank you, your grace. You are too kind."

_Fool, don't blush.._ She sighed softly. No matter what the cruel young man did, he still managed to make her blush and believe his little compliments, he still managed to make her... like him a little.

* * *

Sansa lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She was still waiting for the guards to summon her to the queen's chambers. What did the queen want from her anyway? What did she _want_ to talk about? _Did she_ really want to talk?

She sighed, closing her eyes. She had so much to deal with it, she was so tired. And scared. Joffrey still hasn't changed, even after he said they would go on with the wedding.

He was still the same, cruel, mean, sadistic, sarcastic, rude and vicious. All she wanted was to escape him, away from the vile, cruel people surrounding her.

Sansa's eyes opened to a soft knock to her door. "Sansa, dear." Sansa paled._ Oh no... She's here... _She stood up, smoothing down the folds of her dress. She took in a deep breath, and opened the door. Cersei stood before her, smiling, looking lovely in a floor-length, long-sleeved gray dress.

"May I come in?" She asked coolly. Sansa curtsied. "Of course, your majesty." Cersei sat on one of the seats near the window.

Sansa took a seat across from hers, feeling very afraid and nervous. "At ease, darling.." Cersei gave her a small, amused smile. "I'm only here to to discuss you and Joffrey's wedding plans. He doesn't want to be bothered with all the arrangements." Sansa nodded. Of course...

Sansa forced a smile. "Of course, your majesty..."

"Good. Well, you are to be wed once you are with child." Sansa stiffened. "And that will be very soon, I'm sure..." Sansa hid her disgust, fear and torment as the queen talked. As soon as she left, though, she threw herself onto her bed and sobbed as quietly as she could.

It seemed she was never going to escape Joffrey.

* * *

_Knock-Knock-Knock_

_Who is it now? _Sansa sat up and sighed. Her head hurt terribly. She was tired, her conversation with had worn her out, given her a headache. The queen expected so much from her, wanted so much from her. She wanted more than one grandchild, and for all of them to be blonde and blue-eyed.

She wanted Sansa to have a baby boy first, then a girl later. And her demands went on and on.

Sansa opened the door. "Oh, Lord Tyrion..."

"May I come in?" Sansa nodded. "Of course." Tyrion stepped inside of the room and took a seat. Sansa closed the door. "I've come to talk to you... About Joffrey... How to act around him... You know, that sort of thing." He cleared his throat. "He's currently attending a meeting, so we have plenty of time to talk."

"Of course..." She needed all the help and advice she could get if she was going to live with Joffrey, make him trust her so she could escape.

...

_Joffrey expects so much from me... _Sansa stared out the window, extremely depressed._ But what did **I** expect...? He's a king, after all.. Kings expect a lot from their queens.. _She was very grateful that Tyrion had gone to her room and explained to himself what Joffrey wanted and expected.

Now she knew what to do, how to please him, how to avoid his bad side. But there were a few things she couldn't do for the king. She couldn't pretend to enjoy death, or the pain of others. She could never bring herself to like torturing or killing innocent people.

"Lady Stark?"

Sansa glanced towards the door. Anya peeked from behind it. "May I come in, milady?" Sansa nodded. "I'm sorry to interrupt..." She said, closing the door quietly behind her. "But I came here... To apologize... And to tell you that's dinner will be ready soon..."

Sansa stared at her. "Apologize for what? You've done nothing wrong..."

Anya hung her head. "I wasn't able to help you earlier. Excuse me, milady, I do not mean to speak ill of your betrothed, but I know you're afaid of him because he isn't... He isn't the nicest person I know.." Sansa laughed. "Oh, no. It isn't your fault, Anya."

Anya looked up and smiled. "Thank you, milady. We need to get you ready for dinner..."

* * *

"You're late..."

Joffrey said coldly as soon as Sansa entered the room. Sansa curtsied. "I'm sorry, my lord. I was just trying..." She looked down. "I was just trying to make myself look presentable for my king..." She said quietly. Joffrey stared at her for a moment, then said "Very well. Sit."

Sansa took a seat next to him. She looked around. "Mother couldn't join us for dinner. She's busy... Arranging things for our wedding..." His cold blue eyes glinted. "A lady should never be late for any meal. I've been waiting here for you for a quiet some time. I don't like waiting. A king should never be kept waiting."

"A king doesn't eat without his lady, he has to eat with his lady by his side. Understand?" Sansa nodded timidly, coloring. "I'm sorry, my lord. It won't happen again."

He then examined her dress. It was a dark blue, came to her ankles, the sleeves came to her elbows and exposed a generous amount of cleavage. He smirked. "You do look presentable..." He said lowly, eyes darkened with lust. He leaned in, and Sansa's heart began to pound, her cheeks pinkening.

"_AGGGGHHHH!_"

Joffrey pulled back, an irritated look on his face. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He shouted, a nasty frown his replacing the smirk on his face. "Why are you screaming?" Sansa continued to scream, ignoring him. She stood up. Her stomach hurt terribly. She clutched it, where did this sudden pain come from? The [pain was unbearable.

She felt something warm running down her legs.

She lifted her dress slightly and watched in horror as blood trickled down her thighs.


	3. Chapter 3

Sansa awoke in an unfamiliar room, sweat pouring down her face. She could feel a sharp pain her abdomen.

"Ah, you're finally awake..."

Anya approached her, a rag in her hand, a bucket of water in the other. Sansa frowned. "Where I am? How did I get here? What happened?" Anya set the bucket down and sighed as she dipped the rag in it. She squeezed it and gently wiped Sansa's face.

"Well, you're in the king's room..."

Sansa looked around and her fists clenched. She _was_ in the king's room. Four poster bed, gloomy atmosphere, black and red everywhere. She panicked. Why didn't the king have her brought back to _her_ room? Why his? As if reading her mind, Anya said "The king wanted you brought here because... Well, because you and the king will... Fornicate."

Sansa frowned, her heart beginning to pound. "B-but why?"

"Well, you've had your first blood."

"Oh..."

This wasn't good. She wasn't ready to have a child, she wasn't sure if she would _ever_ be ready. She didn't want to bear him children, never._ But I have no choice... _She thought despairingly. "You seem unhappy..." Anya said. Surely the young woman should be delighted, he wouldn't, couldn't harm her once she was with child. _Unless... Unless she** truly** loathes his majesty... _

"I... I'm not exactly... Overjoyed."

Anya didn't ask why. She already knew the answer. She sighed, setting the rag down on her lap. She held Sansa's hand. "Everything will be alright, milady." Sansa nodded, then forced a smile onto her face. "Yes, of course." Anya stood up and carried the bucket. "I must go, milady. I will prepare your bath."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to marry the little bird?"

Joffrey sighed, annoyed as he glared at his mother. How many times did he have to say yes? That he wouldn't change his mind? That his decision was final?

"I told you many times, mother." Joffrey growled. "My decision hasn't changed."

The queen gave an exaggerated sigh. "But her father is a traitor, dear. You want to marry a traitor's daughter?"

Joffrey clenched his fists. "He _was_ a traitor, mother." He said through gritted teeth. "She had nothing to do with her father's plans, his actions. What he did does not concern her. Now stop pestering me about her dead father's crimes. He's already gone. Whatever he did does not involve her."

Cersei nodded. "You seem... _taken_ with her." She stared at him, an eyebrow raised. "Are you?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" He scoffed. "I'm simply marrying her because she is loyal, and she would make a faithful wife, an obedient queen." He stood up, and glared at his mother once more. "Just go back to planning our wedding, will you? Stop bothering me."

* * *

_Ridiculous... How could she say that? _Joffrey thought as he stormed through the halls. _I'm marrying the girl out of convenience... _He frowned in disgust as he opened the door to his room. Love was for weak people, fools. He halted at the sound of a girl sobbing.

He stepped inside and saw Sansa sobbing on his bed, her face buried in her hands. He felt strange as he watched her cry, it didn't make him feel good, like it did when he was about to take her life with his bow and arrow. He frowned. What was the matter with him?

He took a step towards her.

She didn't seem to notice him, and sobbed harder. Joffrey gritted his teeth, irritated with himself and with her. "Why the hell are you crying?"

Sansa's head snapped up and her eyes widened at the sight of him. She immediately stopped crying and quickly wiped away her tears. Then she just stared at him.

"I asked you a question."

"I-I... My stomach hurts, your grace."

Joffrey nodded, that was reasonable excuse. His mother explain to him that Sansa would be in pain once she experienced her first blood. "Well, go and take your bath..." He ordered, then a wicked smile appeared on his face. "For tonight..."

Sansa turned red and nodded. "Yes, your grace." She stood up and rushed out of the room.

* * *

"Will it be... _painful_, Anya?"

Anya was washing Sansa's hair while she sat in the wooden tub, washing her arms and legs. "Yes... But only for a while..." She smiled as Sansa paled. "Only for a while, milady... It won't last..."

Sansa frowned. "Why will it hurt?"

"Well, that's because -"

"Will you two hurry up?"

Both Sansa and Anya faced the door. Cersei stood by the door, an irritated expression on her face. "You don't want to keep the king waiting, little bird." She eyed Anya. "As for you, well, you should be punished for keeping the little bird away from her king for so long..."

Sansa panicked. "No!" Cersei looked at her, an eyebrow raised. Sansa blushed. "I mean, it's not her fault. It's mine. I was asking too many questions..."

Cersei scoffed. "Of course you did... Just hurry up." She left. Anya sighed as Sansa stood up and covered herself with a towel. "You didn't have to do that, milady. It was my fault, after all." The young woman shook her head. "Of course not... It was my fault... Me and my mouth."

Anya sighed. "Well, thank you, milady. Now, we must get you dressed."

* * *

Sansa felt nervous as she approached the king's room. She was dressed in a red gown, with a gold collar and cuffs. She was made to wear silk slippers, her hair down and her lips painted red. She didn't know why she had to wear such clothing.

She took in a deep breath as she opened the door. She stepped inside and saw the king sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in gold and black. He looked at her, and she could see lust begin to cloud his eyes. She gulped as she approached him.

He took her shaking hands in his, and she was surprised he wasn't irritated by them. She blushed as she smirked.

"Are you ready, my queen?"


End file.
